


Try With Me

by TheatreSpaz



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatreSpaz/pseuds/TheatreSpaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Popular media would tell her to drop-kick his ass to the curb; or draw out the conclusion 'til they were both so sick of each other they forgot why they were in this situation. But her gut tells her something completely different, and if she doesn't let herself stop to overthink this, it might not be ruined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Try With Me

Try With Me

 

“Hey, babe! On my way over now. If you get this before I get there and you need anything, just shoot me a text. See you soon!” Darcy ended the voice message at the top of the subway stairs, tucked her phone back in her purse, and her purse firmly under her arm, before descending. She checked for any messages or missed calls on her way back out, but there was nothing. She took a deep breath of the chilled, slightly rank fall air. It was sunny despite the temperature and she had decided earlier that day to purposefully enjoy every second of it, store it up for the dismal months to come. She swung the door to the building open and saw Aimee by the mail boxes, going through some letters.

“Hey, Aimee. How goes it?” Darcy stopped for a moment, pleased with her world and everyone in it.

The other woman grinned, her new lip ring adding a sparkling accent. “Not too bad, Darcy. You look ridiculously chipper; good day?”

“Well, it’s not bad so far, all I can ask for. See ya ‘round!” Darcy smiled, and turned for the stairs. Halfway up the first flight, she passed a woman heading down. She was a new face, pretty, flushed. Darcy found herself eyeing the stranger for a moment, before deciding that the look on her face was that of the newly-laid-and-satisfied-with-it. Their eyes met for a brief second, each giving a shallow but friendly smile, each immediately forgetting the other.

She was light and bouncy the rest of the way up, a grin on her face and her heart fluttering enough to feel in her stomach. She was so happy she was beginning to think herself ridiculous, and all for a guy. A tendril of feminist anger at her need for a man snuck into her thoughts, but with a firm hand she strangled it, telling herself that she wasn’t happy _because_ of a man, just…. Happier? She shook her head at herself, digging for the key ring in her purse as she strode to his door. Briefly knocking as more of a heads up than anything, she unlocked the door.

“CLINT! I missed you! I’m back! How’s Pizza Dog? What’d you do while I was gone? Any adventures?” She gushed as she unloaded coat and purse, too excited for an indoor voice. “Hey, where are you? Marco?!” She laughed as she headed to another set up stairs, clanking up to his bedroom. “Hey, babe-“, she stopped.

Clint was in his boxers, sitting on the side of the bed staring at Darcy. Or, staring at the space Darcy just entered. The bed was incredibly rumpled, clothes strewn about. Not unusual in the least. There was something very off, though.

“Clint?”

Clint swallowed heavily. “Hey, Darce.” His voice was light and high, almost shivery. He looked at her face, finally. She watched his eyes widen, turn red, and fill with tears that he blinked back. “I need to tell you something.”

She stood fixated, looking at Clint but her mind had tripped on a crack and couldn’t seem to regain its balance. “K.” She waited, holding her body very still and gripping the rail of the stairs.

“I, um… I just – I .” He sniffed hard, paused, and his voice broke as he said, each word distinct and horrible, “I slept with another woman.”

Darcy’s eyes immediately welled. “Okay.” Her mind, still reeling from the earlier hiccup, felt like it was floating away. Clint’s face scrunched as he looked at her. He was waiting for her. To say something. Darcy yanked her thoughts down and gasped as she finally blinked. Shit, she was about to be sobbing. Her breath was high-pitched going in, a moan on the exhale. She put her back to the wall the stairs were on and fought for control.

“Okay. Okay. Oh my fucking god – it just happened, didn’t it? I can fucking _smell_ it. Perfume and sex. Shit. My boyfriend cheated on me and I almost walked in on it!” She banged the meat of her fist against the wall by her side. _‘Stop it. Breathe. Calm. Breathe. Talk.’_ “Okay, I, uh, I don’t know what to do, right now. I think I’m supposed to blow up and give you hell, but I don’t think I have it in me. I feel like I’m hyperventilating or something. I WANT to lay down and cry, but… I don’t know, that just isn’t what I feel like needs to be done. Fuck. Geez, Clint. Why? I don’t even really want to know but I don’t know what else to say!”

“I don’t know why.”

“Bullshit!”

“I don’t! ‘Cause I’m a fucking loser, a hopeless case-“

“If you don’t want to be with me, you should’ve just **said that!** Why couldn’t you have just told me! Why do it this way?! This hurts so much fucking more than just breaking up with me would have.” If she wasn’t yelling, she was going to start sobbing- it left her shaky and weak-feeling. Damn, why was this happening so fast?

“I didn’t want to end it. I don’t. That’s not- that’s NOT what this was, Darcy. Please,” Clint was crying. “Please, just let me tell you how sorry I am. I am so sorry.”

Darcy had never been cheated on, but she knew a little about the other side of the equation. A little. “I think I should probably go think. Alone. Will you be available if I need to get hold of you?” He nodded. She felt like she conducting business. The business of a break up? Or maybe just the more unpleasant business associated with most relationships. “I just need to think. And I guess you should, too. And then we’ll talk.” She waited ‘til he nodded once more. She gathered herself to walk back down the stairs, standing on her own and head turned to the main floor. “Will you – will you please wash the sheets?” Voice wobbling, nose dripping, she heard an affirmative from Clint, and walked down stairs. She put on her coat, pulled her purse over her head and across her body, and left the building. She saw the woman from M heading up the sidewalk with her daughter and a few grocery bags, but they didn’t notice her. Paused, she let her mind float again, slowly navigating her inner map, and picking a bar/restaurant within walking distance. Mission: walk to bar. Hands in her pockets, head up, and eyes ahead, she walked. Went to the second-story lounge area. Mission: get a drink, no servers. She spotted the bartender at the moderately filled bar top. Propped herself against it, leaning far to get his attention. Got a dark beer. Mission: find a place to sit, no company. The pool tables were busy, the high tops filled, but there was a luckily vacant sitting area with two love seats and some small tables. She sat close to an arm and took a long sip of her ale. Mission:……? Darcy sniffed hard, leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. Mission: time to get some emotional assistance. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

“Hey, Darce, what’s up?”

“Hey, Jane. Hey, I, um, I need some friend time. Pretty bad. Could you come meet me?”

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I just want to tell you when you get here. I don’t want to say it over a phone.”

“Of course! Of course, Darcy. Text me the address, okay? Just sit tight, I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks, Jane. See ya soon.”

“See you soon. Bye.”

Darcy texted her the name of the bar, not knowing the street address, and concentrated on drinking her beer at a reasonable rate and on not thinking about anything. She was only just over half done with the pint when Jane arrived. Her friend sat catty-corner to Darcy, on the second love seat.

“Hey! Okay, what’s going on?”

 “You should get a drink, first, if you want one.” Jane went to the bar and got a bottled beer and a glass of water. She sat back down and looked at Darcy.

“Clint told me he cheated on me. Today. I went to his apartment, and she had just left.” Jane gaped.

“Are you – that fucking shithead!”

“I don’t know what to do. I told him I needed to think, that he should think about it, and then we should talk to each other. He said he was sorry, that he didn’t want us to separate. He was crying.” Darcy relayed as many facts in one go as she could. She wanted Jane to know it all as soon as possible so she could help Darcy look at the pieces and decide how to fit them together again. In the same shape or a new one, but she needed another rational human.

Jane had grabbed Darcy’s hand and was watching her face intently.

“Okay, so we’re gonna skip the rant, _for now_ , and instead discuss outcomes.” Jane sighed, squeezed her fingers, then let go to sit back and take a drink of her beer. “So, Clint’s not a crier from what I’ve come to know. Genuine?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Who was it?”

“Didn’t ask, he didn’t say. …I think I saw her. I noticed a woman heading out as I was going up. Not a tenant I recognized. She looked, well, like she’d just had sex.”

“Okay. Well, as silly as this question sounds, how are you feeling?” Jane _looked_ like she felt silly asking it, her face pained but earnest.

“I kind of want to scream, and sob, and scream-sob. I was so fucking happy going to see him, Jane. It was ridiculous how good I felt just thinking about him.” She paused, her breath and words hitching. “I got angry, but it was just to cover up how lost I felt. I can’t – I don’t know. I want to talk to him, but I don’t know what about.”

“I have to say, you’re taking this different than I would’ve thought, if I’d ever thought about it. You sound like you’re thinking of trying to work it out.”

Darcy was quiet, thinking about what Jane had said, what it said about Darcy. “I had a girlfriend when I was in my early twenties. Samantha. We’d worked together and I was so in love with her. We, um, we were very - . When we had sex, it was great, but I noticed that I was always the one who ‘started’ it, you know? She never initiated anything unless she was drunk. And, I guess I was insecure or something, because it started to be a problem. I became self-conscious, we stopped fooling around, and then we stopped having sex. We never spoke about it. Ever. Just let it fester. And I’d started spending more time with a guy-friend of mine, Nathan, someone I’d known for a while, from before I met Samantha. He flirted with me, and I flirted back. We texted. Samantha looked at the texts and confronted me. I was upfront, I apologized, I stopped all contact with him, and I tried to explain without hurting her any more. We stayed together, though within a year we’d split.” Darcy took a break, grabbed Jane’s glass of water and gulped some down, putting her cool hands to her face and neck. “Nathan made me feel better than I did when I was with Sam. I was so embarrassed around her, and he made me feel pretty, and special, and just, _good_. I didn’t feel shame when I was with him. Anyway, where I was going with this was, Sam never held it against me. She never brought it up. Maybe it was because it really WAS just flirting and nothing more, I don’t know, but she forgave me, and we moved on. And…” she finally trailed off, took a sip of her warming beer, and looked at Jane. She looked back.

“I think if you want to make it work, you can. You’re amazing and intelligent, and I will always support you; not just because you’re my friend and I love you, but because you’ve always known what you needed to do, without anyone’s input. But, Darcy, he had sex with another woman. That’s pretty bad.”

“That’s what I always thought, but Jane? I’ve had so many one-night stands, and fuck-buddies, and boyfriends that barely lasted. Sex CAN be a very important emotional meeting between two people, but it can also be just some stupid thing you do because you think you’re supposed to. I love him and I need to talk to him some more before I make any decisions.”

“Okay. I respect that. So, what’s the plan, now? Drink more? Get a ladies night going?” Jane had finished her beer and was playing with her phone a little.

“I think I want to just go ahead and get this started. Talk to him and see where it goes. And I’d like to keep this on the DL for now.”

“Noted. Do not tell lethal superheroes that one of their own is a philandering man-whore.” Darcy grinned. “Thor’s gonna be pissed.” Jane tucked her phone away.

“He won’t tell anyone, will he?”

“No. He’ll probably want to talk to you, but he’s pretty excellent with secrets.”

Their chatter stopped, and their faces fell.

“You know, I’d heard a little from Clint, as well as Natasha and Jessica, about how terrible his relationship history is. Even Kate lets on, sometimes. We only touched on the subject a little, though. I never really thought about what it might mean for us.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Darcy sighed. “Okay, time to go. Jane, thank you so much for coming out here. You’ve really helped me.” They stood and hugged.

“I know you have a plan, and you know how you want this to go, but if you can’t make a decision tonight, or something happens and you change your mind, CALL ME. No one expects you to wrap things up this quickly. It’s okay to take some time for yourself and wallow.”

“This may not be healthy, but I don’t want Clint to sit and think too long.” Jane’s eyes narrowed. “Honestly, **I** don’t want to sit and think too long. I know I don’t have to make a decision now, but Clint is in this relationship, too, and if I just go home now, I’ll be wondering what's going to happen, wishing I'd talked to him. At least this way we’ll make some headway.”

“Alright. I really don’t think this is the way most people deal with a cheater, but I have no say. Be careful. Call me.” They hugged again. Jane was gonna stick around, get Thor to come meet her. Darcy exited the building to late afternoon sunlight. It was cooler, but she walked briskly and with intent. She was back at his door far too soon, then realized she hadn’t called ahead. She didn’t feel comfortable letting herself in, now. She knocked. She could hear Clint curse as he tripped on the last step of the staircase. When he opened the door, he was in boxers and a t-shirt.

He was silent.

“Hey. Can I come in?” He hastily stepped aside. There was a heap of bedding on the couch. As she walked in, Darcy could smell detergent and fabric softener. Clint rushed to the couch and grabbed it all in one armful.

“I’m just gonna put these on the bed.” He stubbed his toe on the couch, but hurried on with a muttered, “mother fucker…”

When he came back down, Darcy was still standing, unsure of herself, now, and worried about the coming conversation.

"Where's Lucky?"

“I think on the roof." He stayed at the bottom of the steps. "I only met her today. Her name was…not important. I’ll never see her again, Darcy. I don’t want to.” His face and voice were tense.

“How did you meet her?”

 He seemed to relax just a little. “She’s staying with Simone. Friend, relative, I can’t remember. Came over cause the water pressure was off. And…”

“And. Yeah.”

He crossed to the kitchen island and rested a butt-cheek on a stool. “Thank you for coming back, even if it’s just to leave.” He was focused on her feet. “I fucked up bad, Darcy, I know.” His mouth opened, but nothing else came out.

“Yeah, you did. This really sucks, Clint. I’m gone for a weekend, and when I get back, it all just falls apart. Our relationship, just gone. You threw it away.”

He had nothing to say.

Darcy sighed. God, she wanted to rage. She wanted to hurt him, pull his heart out, too. But… It’s like she’s operating off a pre-approved plan. If Clint Fucks Up, Follow These Instructions. She’d never doubted him, before. They’d had a slow start, spoke more in ‘body language’ than actual words, but she’d always understood his intent. He had wanted to be with her, so he made sure he was. This whole THING was so confusing.

“Is this something that’s going to happen again?” The words pelted out of her, almost blurred. Clint heard her, though.

“No, Darcy.” He was firm. He paused, looked at her, and said, “No, absolutely not.”

…

“Does that mean you’re- I mean, are you saying-“

“I love you, Clint. If you hurt me again like this, you won’t have another chance, but I feel like we’ve got a lot more in store for us if we can get there.”

Darcy crossed to stand in front of him, and he sank a little more fully onto the stool. Moving slowly, he cupped his hands around her forearms, sliding them up to her triceps, and then into her hair and around the back of her head. He tipped his forehead against hers and stared at her eyes, his own crossing as he did. Darcy let out a soft chuckle.

“I love you, too.” It was a whisper, just for her. He leaned back, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his mouth. Simply breathing.

“We’ll figure this out, Clint. You and me. Our relationship is _ours_ ; what’s happened with other people, other relationships, in the past, has nothing to do with _us_. You just have to try with me.”

He nodded, serious, quiet. He cupped her hands around his cheeks, looked at her, and mouthed ‘Thank you’, his eyes full. She finally hugged him, crying a little into his shoulder.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“That wouldn’t have been fair. To either of us. You fucked up, but you realized and apologized. I owed it to us to see this through. To whatever end.”

Darcy lost her balance, leaning against him with her eyes closed, and he tipped with her, his seat precarious. He caught them before too late, though, putting them both on their feet.

“So, you wanna order a pizza?”

Darcy smiled, worn out, still sad, and wanting a little down time before they got to work on rebuilding this. “Yeah, I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I am 28, and this is the first time I have ever written a complete fanfic. I've been telling myself recently that I just need to do it, especially with how much fan work I read, and I never did. Not the right time, not the right story, don't know enough about the Universe, etc. Well, phooey, here it is. Plunked out in five hours, self-edited, my fingers pizza coated, my blood racing, I actually did it.


End file.
